


Using

by Rexxxx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent, but i liked it so i decided to do something with it, i wrote the first chaper a while ago, if that's something u think will trigger you please please don't read this, klance, pictures of self harm that i drew, take care of yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24434878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rexxxx/pseuds/Rexxxx
Summary: Keith kinda panicks and doesn't know how else to quiet the noise in his head.edit: keeping this up for posterity like my other fics. as i said in the notes i wrote this for myself, p much as a vent. i'll read it again at some point, but i'm never finishing it. that said i still appreciate comments and kudos so pls do that <3
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 26





	1. What the fuck is wrong with you?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago to avoid my urge to self harm. Keith is my go-to vent character.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JPecqm1VZQ

_“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”_

The words rang in Keith's head like a bell as he sat in the middle of the forest, breath heaving, staring at his hands. He looked at his arm where the other kid had bit it. It was red and angry and the blood had leaked down to his fingertips as he was running away.

Why had he attacked that kid? God, he was so fucked up. But he’d been taunting him! It was just self-defense!

_Was it?_

A voice asked in the back of his head.

_Or did you just lose control? You’re fucking pathetic._

He huffed, breath not slowing down at all. He picked repetitively at the stump he was sitting on with his fingernails. He bounced his leg. His breath still wouldn’t catch up. He breathed deeper. That was a mistake; now he was hyperventilating. He could feel his fingers tingling. He felt clammy. He was shaking like he was freezing and it wouldn’t stop.

He moved his trembling right hand to his left, thumb rubbing hard against his palm in an attempt to ground himself. Not enough. He dug his nail in. He shook his head so his hair flew everywhere, frustrated.

_They fucking hate you now. They think you’re a psycho. Your brother will find out. He’ll be mad. He won’t trust you anymore. All that work you put in will be for nothing._

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered to no one in particular.

He reached down into his bag. Rifled around with jerky, shaky fingers till he found the handle of his knife. It had been a gift from Shiro (his brother), given to him at the beginning of the year; his last year of high school. Shiro had told him it was for protection. Well…

He flicked it open and held it in his right hand. The blade glinted. He shucked his hoodie sleeve up and clenched his left fist. Bit his lip. Sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, and dug the knife into his arm. He hadn't realised how deep he’d gone till it started stinging and the blood pooled and dripped down within seconds. It didn’t worry him like he thought it would. Instead, he took the first satisfying breath he’d taken in... god, it felt like months. His vision was slowly going back to normal, oxygen finally reaching his lungs.

The stream of blood was mesmerising to stare at. The pain was just as grounding as he had imagined it would be and the voice in his head had finally shut the fuck up. He’d never gone this far before, but… at this point, who the fuck cared anymore?

He did it again, feeling the waves of serenity wash over him and watching the blood pearl and drip down in rivers to his elbow.

And again, because he deserved it.

And again, because it was getting hard to tell what was real.

And again, because… this was real. He was bleeding, and he could feel the sting and the warm blood cooling as it travelled down his arm to drip onto the dark, cold ground. He could even hear his skin break as he sliced it in the silence of the forest.

He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, mind calm for what felt like years.


	2. What's that on your arm?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance have a little... chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uO4cIKMJ94

“What’s that on your arm?”

Keith’s stomach dropped, and so did his fork as it slipped out of his grip and onto the cafeteria table with a clatter.

“Huh?” he choked out, staring at Lance’s curious face.

_Eloquent._

_‘Shut up.’_ thought Keith.

“The, uh… are those bandages? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Lance was leaning forward now, brows pinched with concern, staring openly at the place Keith had mutilated himself only three days earlier. He had tried to hide it from his best (and, truthfully, only) friend for the past three days, but he’d gotten so lost in Lance’s voice and his expressive hands, and he was just so tired; he must’ve slipped up.

He hastily pulled the sleeve down to his hand, obscuring the bandages from view.

“It’s nothing,” he said, picking his fork back up and poking at the veggies on his plate, “I just got into an accident. A few days ago.” he finished, looking Lance in the eye as he fumbled with his poorly-crafted lie, feeling terrible for lying to the only person aside from Shiro he could trust.

It was the only way, really. If he told him, he was sure he’d be disgusted with him. Or he’d scare him away. Or, even worse, Lance would give him pity. And he couldn’t take that. Not anymore.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Oof. He felt that one coming. He’d never been good at lying to Lance. Keith could feel his heart beating in his throat. He swallowed. He frowned.

“What do you mean? I just fell and hurt myself in the woods.” It was partly true. He was in the woods when he’d hurt himself.

Lance narrowed his eyes at him. Damn. He still didn’t believe him.

“Did you get into another fight?”

Keith could nearly laugh with relief.

“Yeah.” He said too quickly, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, then, “He bit me. That’s what the… bandages are for.” He said, patting his injured arm.

Lance sighed exasperatedly.

“What was it this time?”

Keith bunched up his shoulders self-consciously. He always felt like a little kid caught in the act when Lance talked to him like this.

“He was… taunting me. It was because he… he saw me with you. You’re the only person I really talk to so he just assumed I was… that we were…” he trailed off, but picked up again, looking Lance in his concerned face, “I couldn’t have him coming after you, too. I was so angry, because he was calling us all these awful things, and I just lost control. Again.” He said. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, staring at his veggies, thinking absently that he didn’t feel much like eating anymore, empty stomach twisting into knots.

“Thank you.” Came a soft voice from in front of him.

He looked up, stunned. Well, that’s not what he’d expected. He thought Lance would be angry with him, and that he’d scold him for getting into another fight, but Lance’s expression was as soft as his voice had been, and he could have been imagining it, but his face looked a bit redder than before. God knows Keith’s was.

“Why? I fucked up.”

Lance chuckled.

“Yeah, but you were protecting me. Nobody’s ever done that for me before.”

Oh.

_Oh._

That did things to Keith’s heart. His eyes were wide now, and a new kind of nervous was swirling around in his chest.

“I, uh. Y—you’re welcome?” he stammered, rubbing his thumb into his palm in a subconscious effort to focus on something else.

Lance, honest to god, _giggles_ at him. But then his face turns a bit more serious and he reaches across the table and stills Keith’s fidgeting (effectively causing Keith’s brain to short-circuit).

“I do appreciate it, but… no more fights. Okay? I really don’t want you to end up in a wheelchair or a hospital because you wanted to protect me. I don’t think I could live if you…” he stopped himself, looking down at their hands, and took his away, shaking his head and resting his elbows on the table. “Just don’t do anything dumb, okay?” he said firmly.

Usually Keith would smile at that and say something like, _‘Bit late for that, don’t you think?’_ but this felt like a promise. This felt important. He nodded.

“Okay.”

_‘I promise I’ll never hurt myself again.’_

__


	3. Never again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has a bit of a close call, and Lance makes hot chocolate while Keith has a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gjJY5Ck8JM

“Hey Keith, it’s cool if I use a bit of your vanilla in the hot chocolate, right?”

Keith gasped, hugging his bare arm and loose, bloody bandages to his belly to hide them as Lance flung his bedroom door open, completely oblivious to the impending doom sinking into Keith’s chest. He had gone to his bedroom to see to his wounds and change the bandages, but his door didn’t have a lock. He’d thought Lance was preoccupied, so he’d just told him he had to check on something, expecting Lance to stay in the kitchen. But of course nothing worked in Keith’s favour these days.

“Yep. Go ahead!” he said a bit too forcefully, smiling and making himself cringe internally. He waited for Lance to leave.

He… wasn’t leaving.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

“Are you okay, dude?”

When Keith said he couldn’t hide anything from Lance, he _meant it._ Lance saw through him better than Shiro, and Shiro had known him far longer than Lance. He was just scary sometimes. Like now, for example; Keith was only in a t-shirt, making it far harder for him to hide his injuries from Lance. Luckily right now it just looked like he was just holding his arms a bit too tightly to his belly, but the more concerned Lance got, the harder it would be to hide.

“I’m okay, Lance. Uh, and, you can use anything we have in the kitchen.”

Lance narrowed his eyes, “Does your stomach hurt? Why are you holding it like that?”

Keith forced a laugh, “I’m just a bit cold without my hoodie on. Stop worrying about me, Lance, seriously. If I had something going on, I’d tell you.”

Ouch.

Lance nodded slowly. “Okay… you’d better.” he said, then padded off to the kitchen.

“Fuck.” Keith breathed out shakily.

He lifted his arm to his face, examining the variations of scabs, scars and open wounds he’d accumulated over the past week and a half. His eyes flicked down to the five distinct red lines from that day he’d run off to the forest. They weren’t too deep; the last three didn’t drip down like the first two.

Every time he’d put his knife away this week and wiped away the blood and wrapped his arm in his dwindling supply of bandages, he repeated the same thing;

“Never again.”

Then, the next day, Lance would offhandedly say something about asking some girl out, or Keith would get teased for his hair because he kind of liked how it covered his face, and he’d been trying to control his emotions lately because Lance would get so upset when Keith got hurt that he just couldn’t take it anymore, and he figured if he couldn’t take it out on the assholes who tease him every day, he’d just take it out on himself.

So he cuts.

And he knows, _he knows_ that if Lance found out he’d be so upset with him for lying to him, but… this was better than the alternative. He could control his emotions like this, and as long as he was careful from now on, Lance would never have to find out.

He finished wrapping his arm and pulled his hoodie over his head before taking a deep, shuddering breath, plastering a smile on his face and joining his friend in the kitchen.

“Hey, Keith!” greeted Lance when Keith strolled in. He proudly presented the mugs of steaming hot chocolate with a blinding grin that had Keith stuttering out a “thanks” as he takes a cup, and burning his tongue when he drinks it too soon.

“Keith, you are so injury-prone it’s ridiculous.” Lance tsked, pushing Keith into a chair and running him a glass of cold water to ease his pain. Lance gave it to Keith and he sipped it gratefully, flushing with embarrassment and Lance’s maternal nature toward him.

“Thank you.” Keith muttered into his water.

“Don’t mention it. You can tell me how amazing the hot chocolate is once it’s cooled down a bit.” he winked.

Keith rolled his eyes good-naturedly, although he knew that confidence came from a place of truth; Lance was an amazing cook. Having as many siblings as he did, he cooked a lot when his parents weren’t home, which gave him a lot of time to experiment with his recipes.

Keith knew he liked to use bars of chocolate for his hot chocolate, so he always hid at least a couple of his favourite brand in his room. He had to hide them, otherwise Shiro would inevitably give in to his sweet tooth and steal it. So only Lance knew where he kept them, and since it was autumn, Lance making hot chocolate for Keith became a regular thing. Keith felt awkward accepting food from people normally, but… Lance didn’t feel like ‘people’ to him. It was different coming from Lance; he could be imagining it, but it just felt more intimate to him. Like tradition.

_But also,_ his stupidly hopeful brain supplied, _maybe something more._

Keith sighed into the comfortable silence between them, watching Lance open his eyes and lift his head up from where it was buried in the steam floating from his mug. He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lance spoke hesitantly, “I’ll drop it if you really don’t wanna talk about it, but I promise you’re not bothering me with it. Are those guys still bothering you about… us?” he gestured between them.

Keith frowned and put down his water, trying to ground himself with the heat of his mug.

“When aren’t they?” it came out more bitter than he’d intended, but he’d been on edge all week and he just really didn’t want to talk about this. Especially since, at least for Keith, the rumours about them were true.

Lance huffed, “Look, I’m just worried about you. You’ve been off since last week. You know how much I care about you, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to deal with this alone.”

He deflated at those words. He couldn’t take this out on Lance.

“I’m sorry. It… has been a bit much lately. I should’ve said something.” He said, taking a sip of his hot drink. Damn, this really was good.

“It’s okay. I know you’ve been working on it.” Keith could hear Lance’s fingers tapping on the ceramic. “You know I love you, right?”

It was something he’d started saying a few months ago, but it never failed to make Keith’s stomach swoop with what always felt like foolish hope. Keith flushed and ducked his head and tried to hide the disappointment in his reply.

“I know.”

He couldn’t reply like he wanted to. He couldn’t say it back. He was always terrified it would reveal too much, so every time he settled for cowardice. He knew Lance wanted him to say it back; his smile always looked more and more forced every time he didn't say it back.

He heard Lance take a deep breath and take a gulp of his drink.

“Do you want to go to the park after we finish our hot chocolate?” Lance smiled.

Keith saw through it, obviously, but he knew walking always made both of them feel better. And the thought of taking a break from school and home to go to their spot sounded very appealing at that moment.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
